When John and Cari moved from Los Angeles to Santa Fe, New Mexico, in early 2020, right before a global pandemic set in, a world of endless mountain bike trails from beginner to expert was suddenly in their new backyard. This prompted John to buy Cari, at 43 years old, a Revel Ranger full-suspension mountain bike, which she’s been riding for the past five years.
Yet this journey wasn’t as smooth as the Ranger’s balanced riding demeanor. It took Cari a few years to feel confident and comfortable riding. Read on to learn how these two navigated riding mountain bikes together and for some tips on how you can encourage your partner to get into the sport.
Read John’s accounts below with Cari’s in italics…
I’ve nudged Cari to write this article since we first got her onto the Revel Ranger, but she’s admittedly not into writing full bike reviews — rightfully so. Cari has enough responsibility here at The Radavist. On top of designing all of our merch, she manages all of the finances and customer service/fulfillment of the site. Her responsibilities are paramount to keeping the lights on, so to speak!
Cari: I don’t want to write a bike review because this is the only MTB I’ve ever ridden. I feel unqualified to make any technical assessments of things I barely know the terminology of. But I can tell you about my experience, which will hopefully help others avoid the pitfalls and traps John and I encountered as I tried desperately to keep my rubber side down at all costs.
Above photos by Kyle Klain
A New Mountain Biker
A large part of The Radavist’s modus operandi is traveling and documenting cycling culture. Over the years, Cari and I have ridden all over the American West, usually with me on a rigid MTB and her on her Elephant NFE basket bike. She’d send it on those rides. At one point on a ride in Montana, we bumped into a crew of mountain bikers, with one noting Cari’s bike selection before sarcastically exclaiming, “Whoa, nice basket!”
When the pandemic hit, our wings were clipped and we stayed very local to Northern New Mexico. With a small group of friends, we rode/hiked/backpacked/bike toured across this varied landscape. This included me doing the one thing I’d like to dissuade people from getting their partner into: bringing a new mountain biker to technical riding terrain.
Riding Within Your Comfort Level / He Threw Me into the GD Fire
Cari got her Ranger in late 2020, and we immediately went on a series of rides that rightfully intimidated her: White Mesa, South Boundary/Heaven on Earth, and Hopewell Gold. These stunning landscapes allow for plentiful vistas but also include plenty of technical moments that proved to be daunting for a new mountain biker.
Cari: Oh boy. I think White Mesa was my second-ever MTB ride, and of course we go with a group of people I’m just getting to know, which in hindsight, definitely worked to John’s benefit because it kept me from getting visibly (and audibly) angry with him and chucking my bike off the side of whatever ridiculous steep pitch I was being subjected to.
Instead, I had to channel all my energy into not dying, which, admittedly, was beneficial to me as well. I had a little more riding experience once we tackled Hopewell Gold and South Boundary. Still, it was essentially the same situation – being the only noob in a group of very experienced riders. Arguably, you get better faster in that environment, but for me, calling it enjoyable would be a big stretch. The only positive feelings I had were after the rides were over and discovering I was somehow still in one piece.
Reeling in my stoke for getting my better half out in the glorious backcountry, I reset my expectations and started small: in our literal backyard trails of La Tierra, the XC-friendly network of the Galisteo Basin Preserve, and parts of the Dale Ball trail network.
These rides were helpful, but by no means were they where Cari’s riding improved. Around the same time, she joined a weekly ride with three other female friends of various skill levels, and her riding started to progress past the beginner’s basics.
Cari: Not feeling like I was slowing anyone down in the group, which varied from very seasoned riders to beginners like me, made me feel more comfortable and confident in my abilities. It was also a little easier to receive feedback from a friend rather than falling into the infamous trap of partner feedback, which brings us to our next tip…
On one of the first rides in La Tierra, her face lit up, and she exclaimed, “Oh my god, it’s like riding a dirt bike!”
Take a Class / How to Avoid Ripping your Partner’s Head Off
We worked on things like body position, braking, and climbing techniques. Simple skills like looking ten or twenty feet up the trail, not in front of your tire, might be second nature for lifelong mountain bikers. These skills are of the utmost importance for people new to riding singletrack.
Cari: I can’t count how many times John would point out that I needed to ride with my knees farther apart and it sounding like the antithesis to my instinct, which was to ride with my knees pointed inward, gripping the saddle like a life preserver. Even though I knew he was coming from a place of good intent, it was hard to digest in the beginning, especially when my main focus was simply: don’t die.
Taking a class would have been super helpful at this point. Unless someone is trained to be a teacher, once you are at an expert level it’s not always easy to remember the basics, or even how to communicate the pieces of movements that have become rote. I’m experiencing this first hand as I’ve progressed in skiing and have been attempting to teach John the past two seasons – I’m forgetting the basic drills I learned five years ago. And no, I didn’t take him on a black run his second time out (but did I consider it? perhaps).
The same photo spot. October 2020 (left), October 2024 (right)
These two photos represent the drastic improvement in riding position over four years! I was so stoked to see her actively engaging with the front of the bike and keeping her weight centered. Her stance looks so solid! We’ll jokingly yell to each other, “throw shapes!” as she’s pedaling by.
Ready When You Are / The @#$*! Swimming Pool is Closed All Summer!
Cari’s riding group eventually took a hiatus as some of the members moved away or began to raise children. The next summer, Cari spent most of her time swimming because the outdoor pool was finally up and running. While she enjoyed riding with me in La Tierra here and there, she could tell that it was not where I wanted to ride, although I didn’t mind one bit!
Cari: Then the following summer my beloved outdoor pool decided not to offer dedicated lap swim hours. Ugh. So I somewhat reluctantly started riding regularly again, and luckily, my good friend Sallie from the original core riding group was back in action.
Sallie’s a total ripper and suggested we try climbing Winsor instead of our usual dusty laps at La Tierra, which were becoming easy for me. I was a little hesitant, but her promises of abundant shade and the trail running along a babbling creek the whole way drew me in. It was no swimming pool, but it provided this Cancerian with at least a water-adjacent summer activity while accidentally increasing my skills at technical, loose terrain, and I became more comfortable with climbing but also descending.
Admittedly, before the pool debacle, I wasn’t sure how much of a place MTB would have in my life, but I am now able to see it as a tool to access more varied terrain. The better I get at technical stuff, the more places I can go in the woods.
After a full riding season in the mountains with Sallie, Cari expressed some interest in doing an overnighter and going a little farther up Winsor. As a lifelong bike dork, this was music to my ears, and I knew just the place to take her. Wanting her to feel comfortable and not overburdened with gear, we kept her Ranger light and nimble while I loaded myself down with most of our gear.
Baby Steps to Big Leaps / No Longer Dying
She crushed it, pedaling up with ease, at her own pace, and walking anything she didn’t feel comfortable riding. We stopped along the way for snacks or photos and talked through some tech areas she hadn’t ridden yet. Overall, it was that single ride that I felt we made great progress as a couple, and I saw Cari’s confidence in riding skyrocket.
Cari: I’m glad he thinks I crushed it – but the last new-to-me section from Chamisa to Borrego was way steeper than I was anticipating, and the looming threat of a monsoon had me saying a few unkind words internally, but I wasn’t terrified and was mostly having fun. Progress!
A few weeks later, she once again requested we go on a ride – the key in these moments is that she requested them, not me – and that we ought to load the Troopy up for a weekend of riding and leaf-peeping in the Carson National Forest. We got to camp, cooked dinner, and listened to coyotes yip and elk bugle as the sun set in our home for the evening, and a great horned owl sang us to sleep.
Waking up the next morning, she asked me, “How long is this climb?” “Six miles long, up a shaded gravel road,” I replied. “Ok cool,” she sounded off, confidently. Snacks were packed, along with a camera and we took off up the long, winding climb to the top of the Hopewell Gold section of the Continental Divide Trail.
This section of trail and the one following are two of the best bits of the Northern New Mexico CDT. Hopewell Gold (named that during the autumn as the aspen trees change) has no seriously technical bits, but still provided to be quite the challenge for Cari when she first got into riding.
This trip, however, she cleaned everything, even the rocky, pedal-striking bits of the singletrack climb, and even rode “Kim’s Corner” – jokingly named after our shreddy friend Kim Klain who dumped a fully-loaded bike during our last CDT trip. She mastered every switchback, all the fast and flowy sections, and the steep uphill climbs with ease. Now a honed rider, the terrain was enjoyable and fun.
Cari: Riding Hopewell four years to the date after my first attempt kind of blew my mind. It was so rewarding to revisit the scene of the crime, so to speak, and laugh at simple things like a big root or a few loose rocks that I walked my bike over during the first attempt. Being able to soak in the surroundings without battling fight or flight and also marveling at the skills I had accidentally picked up riding up and down Winsor all summer made all the previous anxieties worth it.
In Conclusion / We Love Riding Together… Now
It’s been four years to get to this point in our relationship and in Cari’s journey with her mountain bike. There have been some scary falls and some bloody legs in the process, but Cari finally got into mountain biking at her own pace.
I’d still love for her to attend a ladies’ mountain bike clinic when she’s ready. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s to facilitate and support when asked and allow her to come to me with her next steps.
What about you? What has your experience been? Positives? Negatives? We’d love to hear from more ladies about how they got into the sport! Drop ’em in the comments!